3 The Heart Of Morocco
by Chariel
Summary: When Noir sets out to liberate a particularly meaningful jewel from an old friend of Florian's the pair meet with an unexpected setback... Chapter 2 now up!
1. 3 The Heart Of Morocco 1

The Heart Of Morocco Part One

by Basicblack  


Emerging from a particularly satisfying bath Florian's contented glow was rudely doused upon his discovery that Noir was awaiting him in his room. Pulling his robe self-consciously closer about himself he glared with justified outrage at the man lounging on his bed. Noir greeted him without so much as glancing up from a large piece of paper spread before him.

"What were you doing in there?" Florian blinked, further taken aback by the question. When he didn't answer immediately the emerald gaze of his companion swept up to regard him, the dark brows arching inquisitively.

"I - hardly think it's any business of yours." He finally managed in response. Noir grunted at this and returned his attention to the paper.

"It is when it seems increasingly likely you've fallen asleep and drowned."

"I was just enjoying my bath." Florian crossed the room to his wardrobe and tugged the door open, wondering at what point he would actually be able to dress in private. His accusatory tone seemed to have travelled entirely over Noir's head.

"I was contemplating coming to check on you." The brunet murmured in an utterly deadpan tone. Briefly he met Florian's offended glare seriously before laughing. "Don't you want to know what this is? I thought you'd find it interesting." Florian conceded to closing the wardrobe door again and stalking across to take a closer look, but he didn't intend to let this intrusion go just yet. He stared blankly down at what appeared to be the floor plans of a large house and folded his arms, shaking damp strands of hair back from his eyes.

"Well," he prompted after a moment's silence during which smugness emanated almost tangibly from Noir, "what am I looking at?" Noir seemed disappointed he didn't recognise it, but he was only momentarily deflated, recovering his composure quickly.

"It's the plans of the Martin household. Perhaps you remember them since you used to live in their vicinity, if I'm not mistaken…" Florian's shocked expression was ample recompense for the initial letdown. Clearly he had just caught up with the implications of what he was seeing. Pity it had taken so long.

"Oh no, you can't - " Noir's grin thoroughly suggested he could. "You can't be planning to steal something from them?" Noir chuckled to himself, gathering up the plans and rising to his feet beside his shorter companion. "I know them, Noir. They were good friends to my family, and we didn't have many…"

"Then don't worry your pretty head about it, your role will be _fairly_ minimal anyway. I just thought you might be interested." He shrugged casually and started to leave, stopped abruptly when Florian caught his sleeve in a firm grasp.

"I mean it, Noir. What can the Martins have that interests you so much, anyway?"

"So you _do_ want to know." Florian turned frustratedly away from the self-assured smile and emitted a sigh. Noir made a careful show of laying the plans out on his bed once more, then beckoned him over. "C'mon, you might as well know what's going on at least. The Martin's youngest son, François, is returning today from a lengthy stay abroad - "

"I remember him," Florian murmured. "We played together sometimes when we were very young. Carry on."

"Mm, well he brought something with him. Something," as he continued he drew a ragged piece of newspaper from a pocket in his dark suit, "that would have been better left where it was. You and I both know that some people don't have the sense they were born with when it comes to the acquisition of wealth though, don't we? He didn't even steal it himself, I'll wager. Probably bought it from thieves who were happy to get rid of it for a good price." He offered the cutting to Florian who refused to acknowledge his comment.

"_The Heart Of_ - " he began reading, then his amethyst gaze darted sharply up to Noir. "The Heart of Morocco? Is that what this is about; someone stole some famed ruby from your homeland and you feel duty-bound to retrieve it and add it to your own collection? Your sense of justice is warped."

"Read on." Noir prompted evenly, blithely ignoring the criticism.

"It belonged to some royal family… long and impressive lineage. It was passed down through the generations, through the ages, all right - tell me what's so special about it?"

"Moroccan royalty aren't going to let their treasure go so easily. They're already onto him, and it wouldn't surprise me if they close in on this very address within the next week. François is an aristocrat, and it seems to me that most of them don't make very good thieves." He glanced at Florian with amusement. "You're inherently bad liars and cheats."

"_You say that as if it's a bad thing._" Florian sighed in response. "Fine, so you think they're onto him. I take it you intend to steal it from him before they arrive."

"More or less, more or less." Noir nodded, looking again at the plans. "It'll be doing him a favour in the longrun, believe me. And you, Florian, are going to help me. I'm glad you at least listened to some of the explanation, I'd hate you to go into something with no idea why you were there."

"What! If you think I'm going to help you steal from the Martins you're wrong. I don't care one bit for your explanation - two wrongs don't make a right."

"Very cute," Noir grumbled, extracting a cigar from another pocket and lighting it. "You don't need reminding _again_ that you're my property, do you? Really, Florian, it's getting to be an absolute bore."

"Do what you want with me - whatever - but don't forget that you can't force _me_ to do anything."

"Whatever I want?" Noir checked, stalking closer to him wearing an unnervingly predatory expression. Florian stood his ground.

"I won't sink to your level. I'm not a thief."

"No, you're the possession of a thief, and legally come by at that. It's almost ironic." Unclamping the cigar from his lips he smiled. "I suppose it's possible I could adapt your role to something a little less active, in exchange for other payment from you, of course."

"Leave me alone." Florian snarled with ferocity that was still surprising coming from something that appeared so gentle. "You idiot. If this is some scheme to make a point about our business relationship I don't need it."

"This has _nothing_ to do with business." Noir assured him, laying his free hand on Florian's shoulder and closing what distance remained between them. Knowing what might well come next Florian prudently darted out of his grasp, tugging his robe angrily about himself once more as it had begun slipping open.

"Get out. At least have the decency to let me get dressed before we argue." Noir's smile remained in place, though it had attained a slightly wistful edge.

"Get dressed then, and we'll discuss this further." Snatching up the plans once more he left with no further comment, without even making eye-contact. Florian was faintly surprised at such an apparently easy victory but quickly resolved not to look a gifthorse in the mouth. Closing the door behind his unwelcome visitor he paused a moment in thought before going back to the wardrobe. No matter what happened he wasn't going to be used so shamelessly in some game of Noir's. Not this time.

When he finally emerged from his room he was still in no mood to talk. He had gone over what Noir had said enough times to build up a good amount of indignation, and he strode straight for the front door. His intention could hardly be mistaken since he was dressed for the outdoors, but still, as his keeper slid with uncanny speed between him and the exit, Noir asked him quietly where he thought he was going.

"I'm going for a walk." He announced fiercely. "I need some air."

"There's plenty of air in here." Noir pointed out calmly in the face of Florian's familiar temper.

"You can't keep me prisoner."

"If you and I were to actually fight over it," Noir began musingly, "do you think you would win?"

"Do you intend to beat me unconscious again?" The _again_ was decidedly pointed, and Noir was forced to concede he had a point. Short of tying him up - something he admittedly considered frequently though he rarely implemented it - there wasn't much he could do to keep the man where he wanted him. It was most irritating - he was making something out of nothing, and Noir had anticipated this whole affair being infinitely more amusing.

"Go." He stepped aside with a sarcastic flourish. "Just be back before dark." _Heavens, I sound like his mother_, he added mentally.

In less than half an hour the summer evening skies had darkened prematurely with heavy cloud cover, and rain began to pour steadily from the heavens. Still Florian did not return, and Noir's anger and disappointment at the way his latest scheme had been received was reluctantly put aside by concern. _Let him catch a cold, he'd deserve it. And I won't be looking after him if he does. He can lie in bed and suffer. He can lie in a gutter and suffer for all I care._ Somehow he couldn't quite convince himself he was genuine in this sentiment. Perhaps he had picked the wrong manner in which to spring his plans on Florian. In restrospect he should have known this was just the sort of thing that would call the youth's battered pride out in force. He could be so unpredictable.

"Isn't he back yet?" Glancing up Noir found a dark pair of eyes fixed on him from the doorway. Laila hovered there momentarily, as if unsure of her welcome, before coming in.

"He went for a _walk_, apparently." Noir replied, surprised by the bitterness in his own voice. "He must be drenched by now and he's so stubborn he probably still won't come back for as long as possible, just to spite me."

"Did he not take well to your scheme to 'liberate' the ruby?"

"No he did not. He wouldn't even listen - " Noir hesitated, sniffing the air, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "_What _is that awful smell!" Laila's beautiful eyes widened suddenly and she span about, fleeing the room far faster than she had entered it.

"The food's burning! I forgot all about it!" She called over her shoulder as she went. Noir smiled after her.

"That'll teach you to spy on me," he murmured. Hopefully this would also mean he wouldn't be called upon to sample any. On the tail of this happy thought he heard a key in the lock of the front door and extremely hurriedly set about positioning himself upon the couch with a book held loosely between his fingers. His attempt at casual disinterest was thwarted when Florian made as if to walk straight past him and up to his room. "Get back here." He growled, setting the book aside, relieved it had at least been the right way up.

Florian was indeed well-soaked. His golden hair was dark with water and dripping copiously over the carpet, and his clothes were saturated despite the coat he had hung up at the door. His eyes were less defiant now - there was, if anything, an air of resignation about him.

"You needn't have spent so long in the bath if you were going to get drenched like that." Noir grumbled at him, steering him away from the seat he had been about to sit on and soak. "Drip over things in your own room. Come on." Florian proceeded obediently to his room, but when they got there instead of making a move to change out of the wet things he dropped onto the bed. Noir eyed him askance. "I'll get some brandy to warm you up. Why don't you get changed while I'm gone..?"

But he wasn't changed by the time his friend returned, and the way he set about the brandy was alarming to see.

"I didn't mean to - upset you." Noir tried awkwardly when half the glass had already disappeared down the delicate throat. Then he felt he was sounding too soft and added, "You're going to do what I tell you to though." Florian seemed not to hear him.

"I've been thinking." He began in a weary, emotionless voice. "I don't have anything to give you in payment anymore. I can help you occasionally with your - new business acquisitions, but really you just have to feed and clothe me and I have nothing to give back to you. Sometimes you joke about other ways I can repay my debt but…" He had finished the entire glass of brandy, and Noir might have begrudged anyone else such a fine glass of alcohol when they showed so little appreciation. Just now he was too surprised by what had just been said to even much register it.

"You're doing fine." He replied darkly. "Leave it to me to worry about, and what brought on this line of reasoning anyway?"

"Everything's been taken from me." Florian continued faintly. "I have nothing of value to my name anymore. _I'm_ nothing of value."

"What the - ?" Noir came to rest on the bed beside him.

"Forget it," Florian turned his gaze away to the carpet. "I've been thinking about it for a while. It's probably just self-pity. I should sleep." Noir took him by the shoulders, obliging him to turn around and face him.

"You are of great value. If you weren't I wouldn't keep you here, you know I'm not one for charity." Florian submitted silently to being drawn against him, and he laid an arm across the youth's damp back. "And you know, there are some things people can't just take away from you. Not if you don't let them." He suspected he knew why they were having this conversation, and he wished to God they weren't. When his mistakes hurt those he was supposed to care for he found it hard to forgive himself; he could have done without reminders. "So pull yourself together." He concluded, holding Florian off awkwardly and noting his own clothes were now soggy. "I told you already I need your help with this one. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

He headed hastily for the door, turning briefly to add, "And don't sleep in those wet clothes." Florian's self-conscious smile reassured him.

"I'm fine, really. I'll get changed." There was a pause, and Noir was in the hall before Florian murmured "thank you." He hesitated, then decided this was acknowledgement enough and continued on his way.

"Tell me then." Florian began reluctantly after breakfast the following morning, amazed as ever that his companion could enjoy his food when it was eaten around cigars. He hadn't eaten much himself because he was feeling a little queasy after drinking so much. He had berated himself a hundred times over for his stupid behaviour the night before. There were some things he needed to keep to himself.

Noir glanced up at him over the morning paper with a vague, "hm?" For a moment Florian thought he was going to pretend irritatingly that he had no idea what he was alluding to, but after a moment it became clear he had in fact been quite intent upon the article he was reading. "Ah, you want to know what you have to do?" He began after a moment, folding the paper carefully and setting it aside. On the tail of the last cigar he lit a fresh one and sat back in a cloud of smoke, his face lit with a self-satisfied smirk. "Good. You'll be acting in the familiar capacity of 'distraction'. You're so good at getting people's attention."

"_At least I don't crave it, unlike some people - "_ Florian muttered with a trace of bitterness, glaring at the crumbs on his plate. Noir watched him with polite expectancy, ignoring the comment. "Won't it look suspicious if I turn up out of the blue and while I'm there this stupid jewel disappears?"

"Quite on the contrary, you'll have the perfect alibi because you will be in their sight the whole time. I, on the other hand, have no interest in meeting old friends of yours. In fact I'll have been decidedly irritated you decided to go and visit them in the first place." Florian blinked uncomprehendingly. "That's what you'll tell anyone who asks, and if they don't then don't volunteer any information. I shall be at home in the company of Laila and the others, perhaps having a quiet drink and reading a book by the fire."

"And you'll actually be breaking into their house and - " Noir held up a casual hand to silence him.

"You don't need to know about that part. All you have to do is sit and talk to them in their reception room, which is most conveniently located I must inform you, until around ten. Then you shall take your leave and travel back here via a certain route, picking up a small parcel on the way that I shall leave for you." The fair brows organised themselves into a frown and Noir smiled more broadly. "So you see your role is really very simple."

"Firstly," Florian began in a slow, deliberate tone, "what use will the ruby be to you if it's so highly sought-after? You won't be able to sell it, or flaunt it." He suspected he already knew the answer to that one, and Noir's grin was veritably screaming _because it will be fun!_ "Secondly, why don't you just bring it straight back here? Why risk leaving it somewhere only to have me pick it up?" Noir leaned forward in his chair, removing the cigar from his mouth and looking suddenly intense. "And thirdly," Florian continued doggedly, "how did you find out François stole it in the first place?"

"The Heart of Morocco - that 'stupid jewel' - was a legend where I grew up. We - " he hesitated for an almost indecipherable moment - the 'we' referred largely to Azura and himself, "often thought about stealing it ourselves. On one occasion we even came pretty close to it, but in the end it was too risky. Yes, too risky even for me. I know my limits." Florian still appeared unmoved, and Noir wondered what was going on behind the inscrutable lilac gaze. "Perhaps it is nothing more than a childish desire to possess something that was once a glittering prize I wanted more than anything else. If that's all it is I find myself not caring, because it's here, in Paris, and within my reach. I refuse to let it slip through my fingers a second time."

Settling back in his chair once more Noir's gaze fled briefly sideways as he reminisced, then flickered back to Florian as he continued. "As for the parcel I want you to collect I at no point said the ruby would be in it. I merely want you to get it and bring it with you on your return trip." Something of his previous smile was returning, but it was only its shadow. "Ah, and I have my informants. There are folk dotted all over the world who feed me information I may be interested in, and more often than not I sift through it and find nothing of great moment. Occasionally though - " he paused, his gaze distant, "something like this turns up."

"I'll do it, but I don't like it." Florian concluded grudgingly.

"You don't have to." Noir replied airly, rising from the table and nodding to a servant who was hovering at a discrete distance, waiting to tidy up. "I've given you the bare minimum of information since you don't want to be involved with it. All you have to do is go and talk to your old friend - see how he is. Tell him you heard yesterday he'd just returned to the country. It's perfectly true."

Florian remained sitting as the breakfast things were removed, his expression unusually sober. When Noir conceded to actually looking at him - and he didn't want to, because he didn't want to be told this was a stupid idea, or made to feel guilty - he found the amethyst eyes imploring. Florian stood unhurriedly and moved closer to him without breaking eye contact. When he spoke it was in a low, confidential murmur. "There's another reason you aren't telling me everything, isn't there?"

"Only so you can't reveal my entire plan to the authorities should the opportunity arise." Noir bit back crossly.

"If you don't trust me you shouldn't involve me at all." Florian pointed out, his voice strained and barely even.

"Go upstairs and amuse yourself until lunch." Noir dismissed him, turning his frown away and striding towards the door. "After that I'll tell you which route you need to take this evening and you can get changed and leave." What exactly was Florian's problem anyway? He wondered this as he removed himself to his study and shut himself in, going over the sum total of his companion's reactions to this plan and finding every one of them unsatisfactory. Probably a combination of it being an old family friend, and, it occurred to him of a sudden, Morocco. Perhaps he had not moved on so far from his experiences there that he could recall the place to mind without stirring unpleasant memories.

This should have occurred to him sooner. It should have occurred to him after the previous night's outburst, but now it was too late to do anything about it. Florian was going to have to perform his role like a grown-up and stop letting things get to him so much. Despite this resolution Noir still found it infuriatingly difficult to focus on the random book he picked up, and eventually he threw it aside and brooded away the time remaining until lunchtime.

He ensured lunch was the second meal of the day they took alone rather than with any of the others. Laila had acceded to his wish with the cheerful declaration that it would give her the chance to prepare something personally for herself and Noel, though as soon as his back was turned her face fell as she headed into the kitchen. Noel was actually relieved he didn't have to eat with Florian because he had found his usually happy playmate and guardian taciturn and unwilling to do anything that morning. He was glad of Laila's company instead, though a little apprehensive about what he might end up being served for lunch.

After Noir and Florian had eaten in a stony silence broken only by the occasional request that one pass something to the other they retired to the study. Noir explained several times, and in several different ways, the route Florian was to take to and from the Martin estate. He employed maps of the area, then little ones he scrawled himself on scraps of paper. He was just reiterating the landmarks his directionally-challenged friend should note at various points when he realised Florian was no longer listening.

"Hey," he clicked his fingers sharply in front of his companion's face. "I'm not talking because I enjoy the sound of my own voice. If you go the wrong way you might miss the package, or worse get entirely lost. You lost on a Paris street by night could mean only one thing, and that's trouble." Florian was frowning indignantly, but somehow he had no words to disagree with. "This way," Noir pointed at the most recently drawn map, "is relatively safe. It's also relatively short. You should be fine. Are you confident you can find your way?"

"I'll find it." Florian decided firmly, half trying to convince himself. "Noir… will you tell me what's going to be in this parcel?"

"It's better if you don't know. If you think you're being followed, obviously don't try and pick it up. Just get back here." He paused, looking displeased by this arrangement. "Try not to be followed. Oh, and - should the parcel already have gone… well, don't worry about that either."

"Already be… what do you mean? Is somebody else likely to take it?" Noir shrugged. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just trying to prepare you for all eventualities. Hopefully it will be there. Now, are you absolutely sure you know the way?" Florian levelled a particularly withering glance at him, and for the first time Noir began to feel reassured that everything would go according to his plan, at least at their end…

End of Chapter One


	2. 3 The Heart Of Morocco 2

The Heart Of Morocco

Part Two

Florian's mild thrill at finding himself standing in front of the gates leading into the Martin estate was mitigated by the fact that he was decidedly over warm having walked all the way there at a fairly brisk pace, and also by the prospect of what he was there to do. Noir fully expected the entire household to be delighted and enthralled to see him again - it seemed to him the plan somehow hinged on this premise - but he remained unconvinced they would be anything of the sort. What if they turned him away, not wanting to associate with one who had fallen so far? It probably depended how much had appeared about him on the society pages, he mused unhappily. He tended to avoid reading them most of the time.

Still, he proceeded bravely within, introduced himself to the butler who had been glaring at him askance as though trying to remember where he knew him from, and took a seat in the reception room to await the announcement of his arrival. The times had not hit the Martins as they had his own family, and indeed they still seemed to be living in a thoroughly comfortable manner.

He had not associated with them as much as he might have done, though they were always invited to the insufferable balls his mother had held at intervals as regular as she dared given she couldn't afford them in the first place. She had thought the family rather common since they had earned their money through clever investments and business arrangements. They had not been born to it, and thus were _nouveau riche_. Despite her personal view of them she had been outwardly polite, and as a boy Florian had enjoyed spending time around here with François. Everything was so different now though.

Despite his misgivings he had not been waiting two minutes when François burst into the room and, rising to greet him, Florian was seized in an enthusiastic embrace like some long-lost brother. François was almost a head taller than him and had grown into a powerful, strapping young man. His chestnut hair was trimmed neatly above his pristine white collar, and these days he sported a small, clean moustache. Despite these changes he still had the same mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes that had appealed to Florian in their childhood. It was, in fact, almost the twin of the irresponsible, irrepressible gleam that was rarely absent from Noir's eyes.

"Florian," François released him, to his relief, and dropped into a chair with an amazed expression still in residence on his handsome face. "My God, it's been _years_. Of course I heard about what happened - I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know where to find you otherwise I would have - " Florian waved aside his concern, faintly disconcerted by his mention of the misfortunes that had befallen the Rocheforts.

"I understand. How have you been, though? Morocco - " he tried to imbue the name with a sense of awe as though he thought it must surely be a fascinating place to go. In his pleasure at seeing his old friend François entirely missed the hollow falseness of it. "How did you end up there? What did you think of the place?"

"I'll tell you all about it - everything. Lord, it's a fascinating place. So much - ah, but I must let mother and father speak to you first." The two men rose again as Monsieur and Madame Martin entered with pleased smiles of gracious welcome on their faces. Florian's heart sank sharply. They _were_ all very pleased to see him, and he was merely a diversion so that his… associate could sneak into their home and remove their belongings. The question was - would he stop at simply taking the ruby? It would likely depend on what else caught his eye while he was there.

For hours that stretched out like days Florian talked to the Martins, and listened with genuine interest to stories of their fortunes over the intervening years since they had last spoken. Whilst they were clearly trying to be tactful he was left in no doubt that they were painfully curious to hear more of the details surrounding the death of his mother and the burning of their mansion. He gave them a sparse few details, hopefully enough to at least partially satiate them, but he made no mention of his benefactor or present circumstances. Finally, mercifully ten o'clock arrived, bringing with it a cloak of darkness.

He departed with as much calm as he could muster, assuring them he would visit again soon and thankful there had been no obvious disturbance while he was there. He had to decline their offer of a carriage to take him home more than once, but eventually he was standing outside the gates and the oblong of golden light in which François stood silhouetted disappeared as he closed the door. Florian was alone again, beneath a vast canopy of star-filled blackness and a silver-white sliver of moon. He started back along the carefully memorised route, squinting up at the dark shape of a towering tree that was his first landmark.

Reaching the fairly non-descript place where Noir had directed the package would be he was infinitely relieved to find a small white bundle exactly as described. It was just large enough for him to hold in both hands, and whatever it was was heavy and well wrapped in cloth. A sound startled him and he whirled round, his heart pounding. He could not help but feel vulnerable out here, though he would sooner die than admit that to another living person. The bird that had taken off from a nearby bush was briefly a blot flitting across a patch of starscape overhead and then it was gone. Florian exhaled his held breath.

Glancing around for any sign of anyone lurking in the shadows his gaze darted again to the package. If he took it back to Noir and handed it over would he ever find out what was inside it? A sudden wave of defiance rose up within him and he started tugging the cloth open. He had barely had time to register, to his confusion, that within lay a large, very plain looking stone when a cold voice spoke behind him. The familiarity of it cut through his thoughts like a knife sliding between his ribs.

"Are you looking for this?" He turned reluctantly and saw a tall, cloaked figure holding something that glittered redly in what little light there was. "Ray should be less careless with his acquisitions, or someone might take them away from him." Florian was ready to take flight, blinded with panic so intense he could think of nothing but escaping, when two pairs of hands seized his his arms as a pair of men melted out of the shadows.

Their leader drew closer, concealing the ruby within his robes and drawing out a damp cloth that he pressed firmly over Florian's nose and mouth despite his best attempts to avoid it. "Struggle all you want, Florian." The voice spoke again in a mocking tone. "It's always more fun that way…" He held his breath for as long as he could, but when he started feeling faint he automatically gasped for air, and shortly after that the darkness closed in on him and was complete.

When Solomon Sugar had received an anonymous tip that the jewel-thief Noir was going to rob a Parisian household that night he was at once suspicious, and thrilled. There were two obvious possibilities as to why a person would send him such information. Either someone was playing a game with him and wished to lure him somewhere dangerous after nightfall, or someone else was as interested in seeing Noir captured and unmasked as he was. Naturally the only conclusion was to go along and find out, though he intended to exercise extreme caution in case the former of his suppositions proved to be the case. He had enough enemies for it to be a distinct possibility.

In the event he was elated when, after over an hour of waiting impatiently concealed, he indeed made out quite plainly a black figure moving amongst the shadows heading into the Martin mansion. The minutes ticked by interminably as he then awaited its reappearance, but finally it was there again, just discernable as it slipped quickly away from him. He took off after it at a careful pace, remaining hidden as he went and watchful for the figure turning around and spotting him. Not once did this happen.

As the figure passed the edge of a small park it bent and shoved something very quickly beneath the sprawling roots of a tree before hurrying onwards. Solomon slid across the dark avenue as soon as he dared and hesitated a fraction of a second. What good would it be to capture Noir if he had just deposited the evidence of his larceny in a hiding place where it would no doubt shortly be picked up? Checking quickly which direction the figure had taken ahead of him Solomon dived for the parcel, and gave a cry of surprise as his flight was arrested by something catching his cloak.

"No, Mr. Sugar. I don't think I want you getting your hands on that." In the instant before he was rendered unconscious, taken utterly by surprise by this turn of events, Solomon at least registered that the voice belonging to the man who had captured him was unpleasantly recognisable.

* * *

As Florian regained consciousness he was first aware of having a splitting headache, and then of voices talking hurriedly nearby. He kept his eyes closed, and the owners of the voices mercifully did not seem to have noticed he was now awake, continuing what sounded like an argument as the noises resolved themselves into words.

"I told you I did not wish to be interrupted, especially not with this news you bring. If you can't handle one girl then I have no use for any of you, and I will pay you nothing. If she comes back again just bring her inside and shoot her. _Get back to guarding the man_." The sentence ended on an angry hiss, and whoever the man on the receiving end of it was evidently decided he had no wish to contradict the order, as there was silence for a moment. Florian's aching mind grasped what had just been said - a girl? Could it be Laila had somehow found him? The thought hurt him on two scores - one it would mean danger for her, and two it seemed to suggest he had been here quite some time…

"You're a lousy actor." The hated voice spoke suddenly close to his ear with a warm breath of air. "Now open those pretty eyes of yours so we can get to business. I tire of waiting and you're so much less fun when you're unconscious." Florian stubbornly kept his eyes closed, fighting to remain externally calm and desperately wondering what had given him away in the first place. His resolve crumbled into shock as he felt the cold steel of a knife being drawn slowly in a line from his chest downwards, leaving a stinging trail in its wake. As the knife ceased its motion halfway down his belly he found himself staring into the glacial blue eye that still appeared in every one of his not infrequent nightmares.

"Azura." He spat, simply because he could think of no insult vile enough to apply to this creature. Azura grinned, a cruel white gash in the dusky skin of his face, and stared at him for several long moments before drawing away and pacing slowly across the room. His surroundings were only just beginning to register with Florian. All he could immediately tell was they were somewhere with no windows, copiously hung with curious dark strips of material and furnished only with large cushions. He himself was secured with chains to a large wooden colomn in the centre of the floor that presumably supported the ceiling, though he had no inclination to look upwards just now with his head hurting so badly. Instead he watched as Azura slunk back towards him, the red jewel held loosely between his long fingers.

"It's rather lovely, isn't it?" He observed absently, holding it up so that it sparkled in the light from the multitudinous candles that burned around them. His expression twisted abruptly into bitter fury, bringing several scars that would otherwise have gone largely unnoticed into sharp relief. "But _utterly worthless_." He flung the gem hard at a nearby wall and, to Florian's surprise, it smashed into a hundred crimson shards that twinkled briefly as they fell to the rug-strewn floor. "Before I dispose of you," he stalked closer, taking Florian's jaw in his hand and tilting his face up to glare down into it, "I want the real thing."

He smiled, and this was less pleasant by far than his rage of moments before. "Apparently you don't break as easily as false rubies, but personally I see that as a challenge. It won't take long for Ray to choose your life over our childhood dream, but hopefully it will be long enough for you and me to relive some old memories, and for me to finish what I started." Cold, nauseating horror gripped Florian and for the moment all defiance was drained from him. He had faith in Noir's ability to rescue him, but it would never be soon enough. He thought he would rather die than face what would follow.

"Azura - " a voice called urgently from the doorway. "The man - he's gone." Azura's head snapped round to regard the man, his ivory skeins of hair settling slowly in the wake of this sudden movement. The man who was reporting to him looked deathly uncomfortable but persisted in a fearful tone. "And - and a fire's broken out. The men are keeping it at bay for now but it won't last. We have to - " his words began failing as Azura started deliberately towards him. "We have to escape." The knife, its edge still decorated with Florian's blood, flashed, and the man fell at Azura's feet, unable to scream properly with his throat slit.

Azura stepped over his victim and looked through the doorway, then turned back to Florian. He was a macabre sight, his white robes splashed with darkening scarlet, but once more the brief ferocity was gone, replaced by what appeared to be regret. "Ah, it seems none of you French can do anything right." He sighed. "I was looking forward to playing with you again. Such a pity you have to die straight away." He continued muttering to himself as he turned away again but the words were lost as he reached his arms out casually on either side and tipped the nearest candles onto the rugs below.

"Au revoir, Florian." He called as he left, closing the door behind him. If he locked it the sound was lost in the sudden roaring of fabrics catching fire. Florian now began struggling in earnest, ignoring the pain that tore through his head and trying in vain to squirm free from the chains. All he succeeded in doing was making the shallow incision down his front bleed more freely, and after only a few seconds he ceased his aimless writhing and tried desperately to think. He could now feel the warmth from the blossoming flames that had already crawled onto several rugs and started climbing up the drapes, and it did not serve to calm him in the slightest.

"Help!" He tried, feeling foolish in spite of the situation. Even if there was anyone still insane enough to be in the vicinity they would hardly be able to hear him over the din of crackling flames rapidly consuming increasing amounts of material and oxygen and filling the room with smoke and heat. As he began a second desperate fight to get out of the chains they simply dropped away from him so that he almost pitched forwards into the fire.

"Naturally." The owner of the hands holding him back yelled fairly cheerfully, given the circumstances. He whirled to see it was, of course, Noir. The slight smile was already fading from his striking features, and a cough carried it away entirely.

"Noir!" He fell instead into his companion's arms, weak from the growing lack of breathable air and whatever had been used to sedate him. "Why didn't you escape?" He gasped in a breath then began coughing himself. Clasping him firmly Noir began backing away from the fire, dragging Florian with him. "Why did you wait to save me? You have to get out of here - you have to get through - " he was unable to finish the sentence. He could barely hear Noir's response over his choking.

"You don't want to go that way. It's ablaze now."

"Why?" He retched again. Hadn't he been thinking just moments before he would rather die than face Azura? He didn't want to die if he had to take Noir with him. There was so much he wanted to say all of a sudden, but he was in too much pain and just breathing was proving more than he could cope with. There seemed so little left to inhale except smoke and hot air. Abruptly he was aware they were no longer in the burning room. He was leaned against a cool stone wall that he slid down even as Noir ceased supporting him and moved to do something else. "N - " he hit the floor and found this, too, was blissfully cool and decidedly not on fire. He sat there for what felt like a very long time, wondering where Noir had gone and where he was, while his brain throbbed menacingly.

It seemed like a good idea to him to lie down, and this he did, rather gracelessly. Apparently Noir didn't think it was such a good idea since he suddenly reappeared, seizing Florian and lifting him up, greeted with a groan of protest. Moving hurt so much Florian was momentarily unaware he was now being carried, and when he realised it caused him no embarrassment or awkwardness for once. In fact he was entirely grateful; at least he thought he was. Primarily he was confused.

"Hush. Just relax." Noir instructed breathlessly. Florian realised he was whining quietly and promptly stopped. "It's all right now, I'll take you home." He closed his eyes to shut out the dim walls that were sweeping past him and after altogether too many pain-filled seconds he felt himself slipping once again towards unconsciousness. A heaviness pressed in around his brain, and he chose not to fight it.

* * *

He awoke once more on the end of a scream, already sitting up. Somewhere he had attained sleep, and from there drifted into nightmares in which he had not escaped, and Noir had burned. He became aware of tears coursing down his cheeks as someone shifted beside him, and rubbed them hastily away with his sleeve. He wasn't still chained in that dark little room. He was at home, in his own bed, and Noir was here with him. Still he was disoriented. The air around them was still, and with the curtains drawn and indeterminate grey light seeping around their edges he didn't know what time of day it was, or how long he had been gone for.

He felt Noir's arms close securely about him and let his eyes slide shut again on more tears. His friend was making reassuring noises, murmuring that everything was fine now, and just for the moment he wanted to believe him. Leaning against him he could give voice to no words - not of gratitude, nor warning - or questions, and so allowed himself to be held until he had regained some semblance of control. As Noir released him, watching him with more concern than most would have though him capable of, his heart still felt heavy. He had to think of something to say, something that would reassure his companion, but still nothing came to him.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Noir asked him gently, then added with a faint, wry smile. "I'll have Laila make you something, shall I? She was nagging me about it all last night. She's worried so she wants to make you something special - " Florian couldn't help but return the smile at this underhand tactic.

"Tell her no, thank you." He replied in a husky voice that didn't sound like his own. He tried to clear his throat before continuing but it didn't help much. "I'm not hungry at the moment. What time is it?" Noir chose not to point out that if he turned his head to the left he would be able to see the clock across the room from him. There were times when his more absent-minded moments were amusing and this wasn't one of them.

"It's coming up to eight in the morning." He stretched stiffly and Florian realised he was still clothed the same things he had worn last night, blackened in places by the fire and radiating a scent of burning. Then again with this mixed so thoroughly with the more familiar smell of cigar smoke Noir himself probably hadn't noticed. It did, however, suggest he hadn't taken the time to get changed, nor indeed sleep.

Florian was clean and dressed in one of his own nightshirts, which was almost undoubtedly Noir's doing. There was something wound securely about him beneath the shirt that he suspected was bandaging, and this unwelcomely recalled the events that had brought him here. He tried to push it out of his mind but the weight of it would not dissipate.

"How long was I gone for?" He managed as Noir began patting down pockets searching for as-yet unsmoked cigars. "I inhaled enough smoke last night." Florian told him mildly, and he glanced sharply up.

"I suppose so." He mumbled brusquely, reluctantly sitting back once more in the chair he had drawn up to Florian's bed. "You weren't gone longer than a few hours, and I assure you I was never far away the whole time."

Florian took a moment to digest this before wondering weakly. "What happened?" Noir looked at him for several seconds as if pondering whether now was a good time to discuss the matter or not. Evidently Florian's frown persuaded him to go on.

"When I left the mansion I was immediately aware of someone following me, as I had expected. That someone happened to be our old friend Solomon Sugar, so I deposited the false ruby as a decoy and continued on my way, and predictably he went after it. What I didn't anticipate of course was - " he took a breath, "Azura. It was him who told my informant to pass on the location of the ruby, and it was probably him who arranged for Sugar to be there as well. I was about to disappear as planned when I heard something suspicious and looked back only to find Solomon being dragged away unconscious. I might have followed then, but I realised who it was investigating the ruby I had planted…"

"Is Solomon all right?" Florian interrupted. "He isn't - ?"

"He's fine," Noir replied in a dry tone. "As far as I know he's downstairs recovering from the effects of the drug that was used to knock him out."

"Actually he's gone." A voice corrected from the doorway. Laila stood framed in it looking rather tired and dishevelled, but she gave Florian a bright smile before looking back to Noir. "He muttered something about still having work to do and took his leave about ten minutes ago. I thought you might want to know." She came closer to them and her stygian gaze swept appraisingly over Florian. "You look a lot better. How do you feel?"

"Not too bad." He murmured in response. "You were there, weren't you? They mentioned a girl causing trouble…" She giggled.

"That was me." Sobering quickly she glanced at Noir. "Haven't you told him what happened yet?" He drew his mouth into a disapproving line and frowned slightly.

"I was just explaining things when you turned up. Perhaps you'd like to tell him your part."

"With pleasure." She moved to stand beside his chair and looked at them both again before commencing. "Noir met me as we had planned, but instead of giving me the ruby to bring back he said there was trouble - that you had been taken and we had to rescue you - "

"Why did you let them capture me?" Florian asked abruptly as if she had not said a word, glaring at Noir. "Surely you could have stopped them."

"They were armed, Florian, and I barely had the time to figure out what had happened to Solomon before you turned up. If I'd tried anything they might have shot you, or both of us." Florian remained in a resentful silence. "We can't underestimate him. You know he's skilled with - "

"Carry on." Florian now interrupted Noir's sentence in his strained voice, looking expectantly at Laila. She exchanged glances with Noir before continuing, as if asking his permission.

"We managed to follow them and found the place they were using as their hideout. It was an inn once, but it hasn't been used in a long time and it's in a fairly quiet area where not many people live so it was an ideal choice. Since the place looked completely abandoned we reasoned they were using the old cellars and we were pretty much right. We had to move fast to get you and Solomon out of there…

"Whilst Noir went to see if there was another way in I set up a diversion to draw a few of them out, throwing stones through the windows and yelling. One of them came to see what was going on and I pretended I was drunk. He tried to grab me so I - retaliated." She paused to smile broadly at the memory, then this faded into a darker expression. "After that he pulled a gun on me - the coward - so I backed off and made to leave. Fortunately he let me go. He probably didn't think it was a good idea to cause too much of a commotion out in the street so he left me and went inside again."

"On investigating," Noir took up the narrative, "I found the place was swarming with Azura's men, so I had to think up an alternative to heading straight in the front door. It was a good tactic to use the cellar because there was just one staircase down and that could easily have been guarded with half the contingent he had. I realised I didn't stand much of a chance against that many, but something else occurred to me.

"I broke into one of the buildings next to the inn. From the look of the outside they used to be one big building before they were divided up a few decades ago so I hoped there might be some connection between the cellars. The first one I went into the door had been bricked up, so I headed for the other one and found the door just had some old boxes stacked in front of it. Of course it was locked but that didn't present too much difficulty for me. I heard Azura arguing with one of his lackeys and headed outside to find Laila and let her know what I'd discovered. We decided the best way to flush them out would be with fire - "

"And I sacrificed my favourite headscarf to get that fire started." She added in a tone both proud and faintly bitter. "But it worked. The room I threw it into caught almost immediately and the whole place was old, dry timber so it spread really fast."

"I headed back down into the cellar but by the time I got to you the room was already on fire. I take it that was Azura's doing?" Florian nodded slightly. "I didn't think it could have got down there _quite_ that fast." He concluded grimly. "I moved you into the cellar next door then went back…"

"Solomon did ask me to thank you for saving him." Laila added hastily. "And I should think so, too. Running into a burning building - "

"I don't need his thanks. I was hoping to catch Azura." Noir growled in excuse. "It would have been churlish to leave him there when I was so close."

"He's still out there." Florian murmured quietly, and they knew he wasn't referring to the detective.

"Yes," Noir conceded, mustering a positive tone. "But we will find him - "

"Unless he finds us first." Florian pointed out grimly. There was an awkward silence before Laila murmured something that sounded threateningly like an intent to prepare breakfast and removed herself from the room. Florian and Noir stared at each other, neither entirely sure what the other was thinking or what tone the conversation should take from there.

"I'm sorry." Noir said shortly, growing uncomfortable with the silence and too impatient to keep waiting. "If I'd known this would happen - if I could have done anything else - "

"It wasn't your fault." Florian told him in an empty voice, lying down again and fixing his purple-hued gaze on the ceiling. "I'm glad you got me out of there when you did." He glanced briefly at his companion again then looked quickly away. "Why didn't you just take the jewel straight home?" This was a much easier subject to talk about and Noir seized it eagerly.

"I suspected I'd end up being followed by _someone_. The tip-off I got wasn't from the most reputable of sources, I confess, and it made me suspicious. I reasoned that if someone only wanted the jewel the false one would probably fool him in the dark for a brief while, depending on how knowledgeable he was. More importantly there was a side-alley just a short distance from the park so in the time it took them to investigate I could dart down it and disappear.

"I still didn't want to actually keep it on me though in case someone was setting me up with the police, so Laila was waiting to collect it and we would then go our separate ways. If nobody followed me and went for the package I didn't want it left lying around so I asked you to collect it." Florian nodded a little at the explanation.

"And why didn't you tell me all this beforehand?" Noir exhaled a breath, not quite a sigh but certainly a sound that expressed he was less happy with this tangent. He wanted a cigar, and a bath, and some sleep. On an impulse he reached out to stroke Florian's hair and was rewarded by a questioning look.

"I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Next time I'll brief you properly. We'll be a lot more careful from now on." He had intended to take his leave on this note, but he recognised the fear lurking below Florian's now calm exterior. "Believe me, we won't have to wait long for Azura's next move, and this time we'll be ready for him. Until then I'm going to keep you on a very short leash." He smiled wanly to himself at this prospect, thinking beyond it to other possibilities involving a leash. Florian smiled weakly back. "I need to wash, but I'll come and see you again later."

He rose laboriously and stretched again, then sauntered towards the door, tipping casually over his shoulder as he went - "Think about that leash thing." Florian threw him a suitably offended glare, then smiled to himself and settled back down to try for more peaceful sleep.


End file.
